


catching up

by revoleotion



Category: South Park
Genre: Basically no angst, Depression Is Mentioned, Fluff, I may or may not have watched too much good omens and that's why gregory wears sunglasses, M/M, Post bigger longer and uncut, This can be read as friendship or romance at this point, adult au, gregstophe, no beta we die like men, non Canon, they are grown up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 14:36:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19975714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revoleotion/pseuds/revoleotion
Summary: Christophe sees Gregory for the first time in years and it's not really like anything has changed. (Meaning: Gregory still needs his right hand man and Christophe is still madly in love with him)





	catching up

**Author's Note:**

> Hey fellas, I bet you thought I was dead. I'm not. To be honest, I have rather good news because a bunch of stuff happened while I was gone. But those good news have to wait... for now.  
> This text is a birthday present for my boyfriend Austin who had to wait MONTHS until I got into the gregstophe mood again. But here we go!  
> \- Ben

_It’s him_ , Christophe thought. Part of him always knew it was him the second the blond entered the room. It was something about the way he walked that made Christophe’s head turn around.

Despite being sure, he stared at the man’s back for approximately ten minutes before he cleared his throat and walked towards him.

“Can I help you?”, he asked.

It wasn’t the first thing he had imagined to ask him after all those years. Christophe had a list of all insults he still had to say to his enemies and friends. This man was on top of the list, not quite as an enemy and not quite as a friend.

Gregory finally turned to him. And even though Christophe was prepared, he had to step back and catch his breath. He had looked well in school, but as an adult Gregory had managed to become angelic. His blue eyes were hidden underneath a huge pair of sunglasses but his lips smiled and his long hair fell to his shoulders.

“I’m looking for the Nutella”, Gregory said with a pronunciation that made clear he had never bought Nutella in his life. He also didn’t seem to recognize Christophe.

This fact was both funny and hurtful. Did that mean he had a glow-up or Gregory had never been interested enough to memorize his face?

“It’s 5am”, Christophe offered. “And you’re at a gas-station-Seven, why would you even assume we sell Nutella?”

“How dare y-”

Gregory tilted his head and took the sunglasses off. He looked like he hadn’t slept in years and he had to blink several times until realization spread on his face.

“Christophe?”, he asked.

“No, just a regular asshole. Of course it’s me.”

“The accent…” Gregory paused like he had forgotten to finish his sentence. He took a deep breath and chuckled. “I apologize. I should’ve recognized you.”

That wasn’t the apology Christophe wanted, but funnily enough, an apology was the reason Gregory was on his insult-list.

“It’s 5am”, he repeated.

“I know”, Gregory said. “Nutella?”

Christophe raised an eyebrow.

“Why would you even need that? You don’t seem like the guy that eats it for breakfast. Are you… are you depressed and eat it from the jar?”

“I don’t eat it from the jar”, Gregory answered. Christophe noted that he avoided answering the rest, even though it was meant as a joke. He wasn’t sure what to make out of that.

“It’s for a child”, Gregory continued. “I am supposed to babysit.”

“Oh Lord, who fell onto their head and asked you?”

“Wendy did.”

Those two words were surprising because of two reasons. One, Gregory babysitting Wendy’s child meant that this child wasn’t his. Wendy wasn’t his girlfriend or wife or whatever. Two, Gregory didn’t seem bitter. Christophe had always thought Wendy was the love of Gregory’s elementary school life. Not that Christophe had seen much of that life. After the American-Canadian War he had moved cities, then states. Now, he lived in Oregon, close to Portland. It wasn’t all bad but it also wasn’t all good.

Seeing Gregory was the best thing happening to him this year.

“What about you? What are you doing…?”

“With my life?”, Christophe interrupted him. “I don’t even know what I’m doing for dinner.”

Technically, it wasn’t fair to do this to Gregory. He looked tired and he hadn’t given Christophe a reason to be mean. Not yet. Knowing Gregory, he’d deserve everything Christophe said once he had his morning coffee.

“Do you know what you are doing for breakfast?”, Gregory joked.

Christophe was almost impressed. Sleep deprivation did a lot for Gregory’s sense of humor.

“I mean, unlike you, I have Nutella at home. That makes me superior.”

He could practically see Gregory’s tired brain do the thinking. Only a second later, Gregory’s smile got wider and he played with his hair.

“You do?”

“No.”

“Please, Christophe!”

“Do you really need Wendy to believe you have your life in order _so_ _badly_ that you beg me for borrowing you Nutella?”, Christophe asked.

The uncomfortable silence told him the answer Gregory didn’t give him. For God’s sake, being around Gregory had always meant trouble. Behind the classy, intelligent facade was a strategic monster waiting for everyone to step into his trap. Christophe was a master of falling for Gregory, in every way possible.

“My shift is over in two minutes. Just wait for me.”

Gregory smiled and mouthed a “thank you”. Christophe smiled back and ran into the back room where he cursed himself, cursed God and then called a co-worker to finish the rest of his shift.

Gregory might’ve heard the phone call, or he didn’t, but he was smiling as Christophe joined him in the magazine-isle. Thankfully, Christophe’s favorite co-worker had agreed to help out, but Christophe had to take care of his cat the next weekend. At least it wasn’t a dog.

“You moved after the war, didn’t you?”, Gregory asked.

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

Christophe’s heart skipped a beat. He swallowed the insult on his tongue and turned his head to the man. Gregory continued to look at the street (of course, he was a responsible driver), but a faint smile appeared on his pink lips.

“That’s all?”, Christophe asked. “ _I see_? Really? You sacrificed my life back then… you basically killed me.”

For a few seconds, it was silent. Christophe wondered if Gregory was going to ignore him for the rest of the ride but when he stopped at a red light, he turned to him. There were many emotions on his angelic face but regret wasn’t one of them. Maybe pity but no regret. Christophe hated pity, especially when it came from Gregory.

“Oh, don’t take it so personally, we’ve all tried to kill each other”, Gregory finally said. “I sent them to you because I trusted you.”

Christophe opened his mouth but sensed that Gregory wasn’t done. If he ever had the chance to get an apology, it was now. He knew it.

“I still…” There was a tiny pause because Gregory stumbled over his next words. “I get nightmares. My brain tries to tell me that you’re dead. That does not mean I plan on eating any Nutella from the jar.”

“You should mix it with whipped cream instead, it’s good”, Christophe said because he had no idea what to say. Usually, he was an even worse over-sharer than Gregory was right now. That doesn’t mean that Christophe knew how to comfort someone.

“Noted”, Gregory said.

Christophe nodded and looked down on his hands. It was too awkward between them, even worse than in school. Most of their interactions had come from their trust but Gregory had broken said trust the second he set Christophe up with those three mountain-town-bastards. Seriously, he didn’t even know who had been worse: Self-righteous Kyle, Where-is-the-clitoris-Stan or Eric Cartman.

“I’m sorry my death gave you PTSD”, Christophe meant as Gregory had parked the car. He wasn’t sure how it had sounded in his head, but out in the open it sounded terrible. He was glad that they weren’t driving anymore because Gregory froze and his hands started shaking.

“Noted”, he repeated and opened the door.

Christophe stared at his back and wondered if he had managed to break everything between them completely. Gregory was silent when Christophe unlocked the door. It was a small house, about the size of the houses in South Park. Because his mom still visited him on a regular basis, Christophe kept it clean but he had no religious symbols in it. That was a line he had drawn when he had been eight years old and he still hated God with passion.

Christophe let Gregory enter first. He headed for the kitchen while Gregory stepped into the living room and looked around.

It took Christophe two seconds to find the Nutella jar but he didn’t join Gregory in the living room yet. He waited for a comment or any noise, or maybe he just waited for his body to realize that he had just let Gregory into his house. Gregory had been a crush ever since he had seen his smug grin for the first time. He had been so passionate about things Christophe didn’t even care about. He had started a revolution Christophe had been ready to die in. Because, no matter what he said or how bitter he was, Christophe had been ready to die for him. He just wished Gregory had appreciated it. Appreciated _him_. For once. But Gregory had only ever looked at Wendy Testaburger. And now, Christophe gave away his Nutella for Wendy’s kid… because he would still do everything for Gregory.

“How many fairy lights does one person need?”

He hadn’t expected anything from Gregory at this point, so the question surprised Christophe. He stepped out of the kitchen and looked at Gregory. He was sitting on the couch by now (Christophe had _not_ invited him to do so) and stared at the Christmas lights. To be fair, Christophe had lost count of them by now. He liked them and they made everything a little less scary.

“That is a question only God can answer”, Christophe said to tease him. Gregory was a textbook-atheist. Gregory didn’t believe in God but he also didn’t understand Christophe’s hate.

Sadly, Gregory didn’t answer him. He got up and put his sunglasses back on.

“There you go”, Christophe said.

Gregory took the Nutella and for a second their fingers touched. Christophe pretended like his heart didn’t stop because of it. He looked down on the Nutella jar that Gregory was holding so carefully that Christophe suspected he had dropped one jelly jar (or two) before.

“So… good luck with the child.”

“Thank you”, Gregory said. “Your shop should stock up on Nutella.”

“Fuck you”, Christophe said.

It really felt good to let that one out.

\- fin


End file.
